About Nine or Ten Yards
by plug in baby57
Summary: Sam has question and she needs it answered. Drabble with smelly socks. No pairings at least not that I know of.


**Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly.**

Carly struggled back into consciousness, helped by a horrible smell prodding her cheek. She cracked one eye open and tried to remember why she was on her couch. It all came back to her, Sam, a tub of ice cream, Girly Cow reruns and tomorrow off school. Sam was on the other side to her open eye and was whispering melodically.

"Wake up Carls." She cooed, from what Carly guessed was the far end of the couch. She thought for a moment and realised just what smelt so bad. She was soon bent double, gagging.

"You should change your socks more often." She squeezed out between dry retches. Sam covered the offending items with a cushion. She looked up at the blonde. "Why are you still wearing those?" Carly questioned, noting that Sam had been wearing the stripy socks for almost a week.

"I'm gonna hide them in Freddork's bedroom." Sam answered, as if it were a perfectly natural reason. "In fact I planned on doing it on Saturday, wanna tag along?" Sam advanced on Carly excitedly. The idea appalled Carly.

"I'm not breaking and entering with you Sam." She pushed Sam back across the couch and disregarding the fact that she had previously broken and entered with Sam. Besides, she spotted a more pressing problem. "Plus, if you hide those in his room they'll have to had attempted murder to the charges sheet." Carly gagged again as the stench melted through her cushion. "Throw them out of the window or something," She ordered.

"But what about the prank?" Sam pleaded. "I've been wearing smelly socks for week and you want me to throw all that down the drain?"

"No, I want you to throw it out the window." Carly said. Sam began to adopt her sweet look. Despite all the work she'd done, it was still ineffective as she had been unable to bury her natural violent tendencies but Carly already had her reply prepared. "Seriously, I've got asthma they could kill me." She explained.

"But I've been wearing these for a week, Carls." Sam tried to justify herself. It certainly made Carly feel liked, her life ranked lower to Sam than a prank. Then Carly hit upon an idea.

"If I die, you'll have no reason to come here." Sam stared back at her. "And you won't be able to eat our food."

"Fine, I'll get rid of them." Sam said. She muttered grumpily as she removed the socks and disposed of them. Meanwhile Carly set about traversing the stairs, which left Sam thoroughly confused when she spotted her. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"To bed," Carly yawned. "Isn't that why you woke me?" she asked, stopping halfway up the stairs.

"No," said Sam "I wanted to ask you a question."

"I'm going to bed anyway." She continued up the stairs, turning her back on Sam.

"At least answer my question, first." Sam pleaded.

"Fine," Carly said, not even bothering to turn back towards Sam. "What is it?"

"How far could you uppercut a five year old?" Carly's brain stopped functioning, unable to comprehend what it had just been asked. She barely managed to pinch the bridge of her nose and turn back towards Sam, eyes closed in frustration.

"What?" Carly mustered from the void her brain had become.

"If you were to uppercut a five year old, how far would he fly?" Carly opened her eyes and stopped pinching her nose before she drew blood. "I was thinking we could do it on iCarly." The brain functions that had been returning quickly left Carly again to be replaced by the question of just what was wrong with Sam?

"Sam," she said. "There's so much wrong with that idea that I don't know where to start." Carly answered, it was the only thing she could vocalise.

"I've got a plan for that as well, we can grow our own five year old." At this point Carly just smiled, assuming that Sam was joking. That was a joke, it had to be. "You get knocked up and I'll spend five years and nine months at a gym pumping my guns." Despite all her moral objections, Carly was struck by a sudden thought, which she had to ask about.

"Why should I get pregnant? You want to uppercut a kid you can do it to your own, I'm not letting you punch George." It was Sam's turn to be confused.

"Who the hell is George?"

"My first born," Sam raised an eyebrow at her. "What?" Carly asked. "Haven't you named your kids yet?" Sam looked at her as if she were crazy, seemingly unaware that she had just been talking about punching children and measuring the distance. "The first will be George, then Alex, Cameron, Chris, Dylan, Francis and then I'll have my tubes tied." Like Carly before her, Sam was struck by something fairly trivial in the greater scheme of her friend's sanity.

"What if you have a girl?" she asked.

"Then it'll be Georgina, Alexandra, Cameron, Christina, Dylan and Frances. Think it through." Carly admonished her, in a overly angry manner. Sam finally struck on the important question.

"Why have you already named your children?"

Carly burst back into consciousness shouting "I don't know why I've named my children already!" She then realised she was on her couch with Sam in the middle of the night and something smelled really bad. She also realised that Sam had been on top of her, shaking her awake and was now on the floor.

"That's interesting, Carls." She said from the floor. "But I woke you up to ask you a question." Carly swayed slightly, confused by the content of her dream. She questioned herself on why she would think of punching five year olds or reveal her six baby names to Sam but her musings were interrupted by Sam's burning question.

"How far do you reckon you could uppercut a five year old?"

**--A/N--**

**If you didn't realise, the title is the answer. Strangely enough, my brother has asked me that question and my answer at the time was 'across the room'. The ending came from a time long ago, I remember in Primary school my teacher said it was lazy to end a story on 'and it was all a dream' and I didn't want to put in the work to end it properly. Anyway nothing much, should be funny and I might just reuse some gags in 'iHate Sport'. The names were pulled out of my arse (except the one that's mine), but I got the idea from a conversation I had a few years ago with a mate about famous people who shared our names. The only famous namesake for me we could think of was a girl and I got it ripped out of me for a while. If anyone to guess my name (and get it right of course) then they can pick the main pairing of 'Insert Pretentious Title Here', because I can't decide.  
**


End file.
